Spotlight Pretty Cure
by teawithmugi
Summary: If all the world's indeed a stage, then these girls are the perfect players: all of their days are exactly the same, as if their lives are scripted. But as they find themselves cast in the roles of the new Precures, protectors of the world, they may finally be able to make a change.


All hands in the classroom were clapping as Clarissa was yet again elected class representative, and she feigned surprise. This was the fifth time now, she counted. Maybe the sixth. After all this time she had grown quite used to the padded chair close to the teacher's desk that every representative got, thank you very much. Clarissa was even allowed to go to the teachers' lounge whenever she wanted. They had great coffee there, she was told, you should come when you have the time.

Clarissa never had the time for much of anything. Of course her days were just as long as those of most other people, but most other people did not have their schedule planned down to the minutes. And, speaking of minutes, she had three of them to get to the music room and get the list of new members that had joined at the beginning of the school year. It was only february, but Clarissa already knew what she would be doing in November.

She could not wait for the clapping to stop and for the teacher to stop talking. Clarissa quickly excused herself and rushed to the corridors before they were flooded with students moving to different classrooms. The music room was in an upper floor, so there were some flights of stairs in the way, but Clarissa was confident that she would get there on time, unless…

"Clarissa, my dear!"

Unless Flora came by and wanted to chat about some inane matter.

"Hello, Flora," Clarissa said. Flora was right behind her, as she always was when she would greet someone. It was almost like she had no idea that she could startle people by doing so. Or maybe that was exactly her intention.

"Busy as always?"

"Do you even need to ask? God, I've been busy ever since…" Clarissa thought for a while. Then she realized thinking was wasting too much time. "Since always."

"Would you like some help?"

"I'd appreciate it, yeah," Clarissa admitted. It was so strange, Flora was such an airhead when it came to the matter of classes and homework, but as soon as she was out of class, she was always dependable. She gave Flora some pamphlets. "Could you hand these out to the third graders at the gymnasium? You have nine minutes to do it before they leave."

"Nine minutes, gotcha. I bet I can get there in five."

"Thanks a lot, Flora. By the way, were you looking for me for some reason?" Clarissa figured that since Flora's help would help her save some time, there was no harm in talking for a little while.

"Oh, I just wanted to know if we could get together after school for ice cream. We haven't hung out in ages!"

"I'm sorry, I've got to study. There's an essay I've gotta finish by the end of the month, and I need better get started."

"You still have an entire month to do it, silly."

"I know, but I have to do my best. Our new chemistry teacher was the one who gave us that assignment, you see, to write an essay on the applications of alcohol."

"So? Just copy it from the internet. It's simple stuff."

"No, I wanna go in depth about it. The teacher is kind of a big deal at the Royal University, and I'd like to impress her."

"Oh, Clarissa," Flora smiled sadly. "Well, it's your life. If that's what you decided, then go for it! I just hope we can do something fun together soon. I miss you, Clary."

"Don't call me Clary."

"Sure thing, Cissy," Flora giggled and ran away without looking back. Clarissa sighed. She should have agreed to have ice cream with Flora. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Clarissa looked at her watch. She was two minutes late, so she hurried to the music room and apologized for the delay.

"Delay? What delay?" Said Ellis, the boy with a guitar in his hands and a terrible haircut on his head. How Clarissa wished she could use her powers as representative and council president and make it so that awful hairstyle would not be allowed at school. Sadly, the representatives did not have much actual power. Sure, they had comfy chairs and coffee, but otherwise all they earned was a pile of responsibilities. And, to make things worse, Clarissa did not even like coffee.

"Oh," Clarissa said. "Well, that doesn't matter. What matters is that I need a list of the new members of the music club. I see some new faces there," Clarissa pointed at some younger students in the corner, with cellos and trumpets and bassoons.

"Ah, yeah, them," Ellis scratched his chin, which was growing the first traces of a beard. Perhaps he thought that girls would find that charming. Clarissa found it repulsive. "I'll tell the truth, I don't think this is the right club for them. They have all these classical instruments and stuff but me and my mates play the guitars, bass, drums, you know, the cool stuff."

"Well, as far as I know, your mates all graduated last year."

"Y-Yeah, that happened. I kind of don't have a band anymore, I guess…"

"You can teach those kids, can't you?" Clarissa asked. "Don't think I don't know that when you're home, your mother makes you play the piano till your fingers hurt," she pinched Ellis' cheek, "so don't play the rebel rockstar with me. You're actually a good musician, those children have much to learn from you."

"W-Why should I teach them?" He looked down, his face all red. "I-I have better stuff to do."

"Because if you don't, you're gonna have to play the guitar all by yourself, all year long, while you hear those children play without a clue about what they're doing."

"No! There's a lot of people wanting to join the music club!"

"Oh, spare me, do you think I don't know that you're struggling to get people to even notice your club? I mean, it's in the third floor of the school. I think only the janitors actually go to the third floor on a constant basis."

"Alright, alright, you got me. I suppose I could teach them some of what I know."

"I'm thankful, then. Miss Martha will hear about this. I know you had difficulties with math last year, and I also know that she has a soft spot for those who are kind to children, so she might give you an extra point or two if you need it."

"Really?" Ellis grinned. "Thanks, Clarissa, you're the best! Even when you're being manipulative, you're the best!"

"I know," she said. "Now, the names of the new members, please."

Ellis asked each kid for their name, and he made sure to smile. He was a nice boy when he wasn't trying to be edgy.

"There you go," he gave Clarissa a piece of paper with their names written on it. "Also, wow, the council holds so much power. Are you so influential that even the teachers listen to you?"

"Well, I'm not just the council president, I'm also class representative, and president of the book club."

"How can you do it and still have time to do your stuff?"

I don't have time to do my stuff, is what Clarissa wanted to say, but that would sound too bitter. Instead she just laughed and resumed her duties.

She looked at the little notebook which held her schedule. Now she had to go ask the new student to sign some papers regarding their transfer from their old school. The new student was named Orianna, and Clarissa didn't remember her opening her mouth a single time the whole week. They weren't children anymore, so the teacher didn't ask each new student to introduce themselves, and Clarissa presumed that nobody even knew the girl's name. Clarissa herself only knew the girl's name because she had the holiest of the council's artifacts; a book with the name and picture of every student and employee. Orianna's lavender hair was easily noticeable, but even so, it might be difficult to find her in the middle of a crowd.

To Clarissa's luck, though, Orianna did not like crowds; Clarissa found her sitting on her desk in the classroom. She was the only student there: there were still some fifteen minutes before the next class started, so the students were eating and chatting in the corridors, the gardens, or the mess hall.

"Orianna?"

She just turned to Clarissa, wordlessly. Her inquisitive jade eyes did the talking. What is it, they said.

"I need you to sign this," Clarissa handed Orianna the papers and a pen. Orianna signed where she was requested without saying a word, and when she was done, her eyes avoided Clarissa.

"So," Clarissa thought it would be polite to make a new student feel more comfortable, but she did not know what to say, and the girl's silence was quite disheartening. "Are you liking it here?" Orianna nodded. "Any classes you're having trouble with?" Orianna shook her head. "Where did you study before?"

"Bunch of places. Last one was the Croix Academy."

"Whoa, that's pretty far from here!

"It is."

"Yeah," Clarissa said, and knowing this conversation would not go anywhere, she said goodbye to Orianna, gathered her papers and turned back. When she did so, she did not even have time to think before Flora started talking.

"Told you I could do it in five minutes."

"That was seven minutes, actually," Clarissa looked at her watch.

"Your watch must be wrong, then," she smiled. "Oh, Ori! Hello there!"

"Hi, Flora," Orianna's voice was a gentle whisper, difficult to hear but pleasant to the ears.

"I'd love to talk but I really have to go to the bathroom now," Flora said, and she ran off. A second later, she was back, peeking her head in the door. "Oh yeah, can you meet me later today?"

"Probably," Orianna said. "Come back after this class and we'll talk about it."

"Sure," Flora said, and this time she did not come back.

"Do you know each other?" Clarissa asked, and by the time she was finished she realized how stupid she sounded.

"Yes, Flora is a friend of mine. I happened to meet her at a furniture store when I moved here and had to buy a new bed, since mine was damaged during the move."

"I see," Clarissa wondered how the two of them became friends. Orianna seemed so shy and soft-spoken while Flora was so full of energy. Or maybe that was how they manage to get along, who knows.

The rest of the school day was uneventful. Once Clarissa's classes were over, she studied for a couple hours in the library; she was reviewing subjects that would only be taught in the next semester, but Clarissa liked being ahead.

When she was done, there were not that many people in school, only the members of some clubs and a few teachers.

Outside, the sun shone dimly in the cloudy sky. Clarissa was glad she had bought new gloves, since it was much colder than usual today. And Flora thought it was a good time to have ice cream! Then again, Flora seemed to operate based on the idea that anytime is a good time for ice cream.

Clarissa liked to walk home, as she lived just a few blocks away from school. The streets were calm and there wasn't much traffic around this time. Right now a chilly wind was blowing, but usually the breeze was calm and pleasant. There were trees everywhere in this part of the city, and the few leaves that were left rustled constantly. Were it spring or fall, it would be quite the spectacle to see the flowers in bloom or the carpets of colorful leaves in the ground, but it was still the last days of winter.

Every day one her way home Clarissa would pass by the old, enormous theater, and every day it seemed to be in a poorer shape. She heard that it was once a beautiful place, a great center of culture, with great crowds every night, but that was long before she was born. Now it was an abandoned ruin, its windows all broken and its walls full of holes. Inside it was not much better. When she looked through the holes, Clarissa saw so much dust, so many old posters from so long ago, pillars that seemed about to crumble. It was in a very sad state indeed, and sadder still was knowing that nothing was built to replace it. The city was left without a theater, without plays, without concerts.

In front of the theatre's broken down entrance was, unsurprisingly, Flora. It seemed like she was following Clarissa everywhere today.

"Hello, Flora," Clarissa said. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, it's top secret," Flora laughed. "I'm trying to get inside the theatre, as soon as I can find a way to open that huge door without everything falling down."

"Why would you do that? It's dangerous!"

"It's dangerous, yes, and it's mine."

"What?"

"Well, it's my family's, actually, but I'm the one who's supposed to take care of it," Flora examined the ancient, cracked walls. "Seems quite difficult, doesn't it?"

Well, that was interesting. Clarissa knew that Flora's family was filthy rich, so the fact that they could purchase anything did not surprise her. What did surprise her, though, was them wanting to purchase this dump.

"Why not just build a new one?"

"Because the Great Luna Theater has centuries of history that cannot be replaced. It has a charm and beauty that no modern theater could possibly reproduce."

"That's true, yeah, but…"

"But why am I the one who has to take care of it? Well, my parents are kind of busy and they feel like I need experience managing something, so here we are."

"Well, good luck to you. Seems like you'll need it."

"Thank you, Clarissa. We should talk more tomorrow at school. I'd be very grateful if you could find the time to chat with me."

"I'll try," Clarissa said, and Flora smiled. Then she suddenly started waving at someone, who waved back. Oh, Clarissa only needed half a second to recognize that blue hair and stupid face. That had to be Adelaide, that truant, and of course she was walking around. That was all she did all day, Clarissa heard, walk all over the city for no good reason. "Is she your friend?"

"Adelaide? Yes, she's my good friend."

"Why? She's lazy and she never does anything. I hear she's awkward around people, can't read very well, doesn't study and does nothing all day but walk around town, from one side of the city to the other. It's pretty suspicious, to tell the truth."

"Oh, dear Clarissa, you judge her far too harshly," Flora held Clarissa's hand. "I'd be thankful if you did not think so unkindly of her, as she's a precious friend, as precious as you are to me. She just has some issues, that's all. I've known you both for a few years now, and I can quite honestly say that you are quite similar."

"Are you trying to offend me?" Clarissa asked. "I'm studious and dedicated. My parents are proud of me, everyone is proud of me. I'm not like Adelaide at all."

"Very well, then," Flora said. "I meant no offense, you know that you are very dear to me. Well, I suppose you have to go now? It's sad, I'm about to meet with Orianna, and I'd love to have you with us. You have an essay to finish, don't you?"

For a second, Clarissa wanted to say that she was free to stay, that she could talk more, that they could have ice cream, that she could spend the afternoon with Flora and Orianna and have fun. But that was only a second. All she said was "Yes. It's a very important essay."

* * *

"Hello, Clarissa," Anya said as her daughter entered the house. She was sitting on the couch watching an absurdly gross documentary on heart disease. Clarissa averted her eyes from the television.

"Hi, mother."

"How was school today?"

"Good, as usual. I was elected class representative."

"As expected of my wonderful Clarissa!" Anya smiled warmly and praised her daughter for five minutes. Clarissa would probably have cared about it if she didn't say the exact same things every year. Clarissa just thanked her, ate lunch and went to her bedroom.

Empty pages of her notebook stood in front of her. Clarissa stared at them for a while, and then realized she was wasting her time, so she started her essay, sighing. Here I am, writing about alcohols and other such subjects I don't particularly care about, while Flora is having fun. Flora was always having fun, and Clarissa couldn't remember her ever being dedicated to school. Or anything else, in fact. Clarissa was not very hopeful about that theater business, but she hoped Flora would do a good job. And certainly she would have fun.

Fun… Clarissa could not recall the last time she had done something for fun. When she had school, she was always studying for tests, and when she was on break, she was taking courses in different languages, learning more complex mathematics and chemistry. Oh, sure, last month Flora came to her house and they played video games for a while, but that was it… Clarissa wondered why she even had her console, as she never had the time to play any games. At least her father played them rather often, and he seemed to have fun. Fun…

"Alcohols (specifically, methanol and ethanol) can also be fun," Clarissa looked at what she had written as she was thinking. She should not get so distracted, that was not acceptable. She crossed out the word 'fun', but that just made everything look ugly, so she ripped out that page and started to rewrite everything.

"Alcohols (specifically, methanol and ethanol) can also be used as a motor fuel, and are renewable sources of energy…"

Soon enough Clarissa was done, and she reread it twice to check for any spelling mistakes (there were none) or any wrong information (there was none). Then she reread it a third time to see if there was anything she could add (there was still much to write about), and rewrote her essay, adding whatever new data she found as she did some more research. Finally she reread it once again, as the essay was longer than the seven-page limit and Clarissa would have to find something to prune.

By the time it was perfect, the sun had set and Clarissa's father had just arrived. He knew not to disturb her when her bedroom door was closed and she was studying, though, so she was only able to talk to him during dinner.

"Hi, father."

"Clarissa, sweetie, hi!" He kissed her cheek and sat by her side as they ate. His voice was always loud and enthusiastic. "Your mother told me that you were elected class president today!"

"Class representative, dear," Anya corrected him.

"Eh, it's the same thing, you can boss everyone around, right?"

"Not really," Clarissa said. "I just get more work."

"No power?" He asked, disappointed.

"Nope, just a bunch of responsibilities. But somebody has to do it."

"Isn't she wonderful?" Her parents smiled and began to praise her. Once again it was praise she had heard a million times already, so Clarissa didn't pay attention. She just ate as quickly as she could and returned to her bedroom and to her homework that she had neglected until now.

While she was in the middle of calculations, her cell phone started to ring. For a second Clarissa wondered who it was, but Flora was the only person who called her. Well, sometimes the student council needed her, but they'd never phone so late at night.

"Hi, Cissy!" Flora said.

"Good evening, Flora. How are you?"

"Oh, I'm good, but that's a boring question," Flora started laughing. "What you should be asking is where I am!" Clarissa and Flora were both silent for a while. "So?"

"So what?"

"Aren't you going to ask where I am?"

"Hopefully you'd be home, doing your homework."

"No, I'm at the theater with Orianna, exploring around."

"Oh, alright and- Wait! Isn't that dangerous?"

"Oh, don't worry about us, we're safe. The stage here is quite spacious! And there are some beautiful statues, but they seem quite frail, so I won't touch them."

"Are you sure Orianna should be there with you, so late?"

"Oh, she's fine, her parents don't particularly care about what she does."

"T-That's not what I was talking about… She has homework too," Orianna did not seem like the kind of person who would just ignore her work like that. That disappointed Clarissa greatly.

"Well, yes, but between doing your homework and exploring an ancient theater that's been part of the city's history for centuries… Not a hard choice, is it?"

Yes, not at all. The right choice is homework.

"Well, it's getting late, so you should go home before the streets become dangerous."

"We'll be fine. Well, it was nice talking to you, Clarissa. Oh, by the way, the ice cream was really tasty. I had a strawberry sundae and it was really good, you should try some too! Ok, see you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow, Flora."

Clarissa sighed. Couldn't they be just a little bit responsible?

She looked at her homework. It was all done rather quickly tonight. Not a surprise, as the school year had just begun. It was still early, so Clarissa went downstairs to join her parents as they watched television.

"Oh, Neil, isn't that outfit pretty?" Anya pointed at the dress an actress was wearing.

"I guess so," he said, uninterested.

"What are you two watching? A movie?"

"No, it's a documentary about theatre, and musicals!"

"Dear, musicals are theatre…"

"No they aren't! They are totally different things! See, in one of them you talk, and in the other you sing!"

"Yeah but you aren't constantly singing in musicals, and besides, they are both stories that are performed on the stage."

"Well, then surely operas are theatre too?"

"I-I guess…"

There they go again. Another discussion over semantics. To outsiders, their family looked so perfect; a happily married couple of respected doctors and their brilliant daughter, who always did well in everything. In truth, though, her parents were just complete dorks.

Clarissa focused on the screen as her parents kept arguing. It was a documentary about how a play was planned, rehearsed, and finally, performed in front of an audience. She watched with attention, despite the endless yapping next to her. It was all very fascinating, despite her missing the first half. She wondered if Flora's theater could have such a good spectacle.

She went to bed still thinking about what she had seen, all the pretty outfits and singing, hundreds of people clapping at the same time, all of them happy and having fun. Clarissa dreamt of herself on an empty stage, alone, countless empty seats in front of her, and as she looked around, all the doors were closed, except for the one that led to the backstage. She had a fleeting thought, a quiet voice that told her how fun it could be to pretend to be someone else for a little while.

Then her alarm sounded, and she was back to being Clarissa, as today she would have school and many things to do and problems to solve.

* * *

Brindille Heart Academy was infamous for requiring its students to arrive pretty early, before the birds even thought of chirping. The representative of each class had to be at school even earlier than that. Even so, they'd still be there after the student council members had already arrived. There was a rumor going on that the council was composed of immortal vampire gods who didn't need sleep, but that was an exaggeration. Vampires drink blood, after all, and the council was merely addicted to coffee.

When Clarissa got to school, it was deserted, other than a few janitors who were cleaning the bathrooms. She filled in some paperwork and waited for the rest of the students to arrive.

Today, luckily, would not be such a busy day. All the clubs' papers were in order now, and with no upcoming events, the student council mostly just had coffee and talked a bit before school started.

"Clary!" Clarissa only heard the warning a second before Flora ran into her from behind. "Ow…"

"Are you alright, Flora? You shouldn't run in the corridors…"

"I'm fine, I'm fine. You have some time before classes, don't you?"

"Yes, ten minutes," Clarissa said. What would Flora want now? Another invitation that she should know that Clarissa can't accept?

"Good, then come here, dear!" Flora said as they joined arms and began to walk. Or rather, Flora joined their arms, despite Clarissa's protests.

"F-Flora, people are gonna talk…"

"Good. I'd be flattered if people were talking about me walking around with such a pretty lady," Flora giggled, and that did not alleviate Clarissa's shyness at all.

"W-Well, what did you want to talk about?"

"I'd like you to come explore the theater with me this afternoon."

"D-Didn't you go with Orianna yesterday?"

"Yes, but I'd like to go with you as well. And besides, I did not explore everything there. We didn't go backstage."

"I don't know…"

"Clarissa, please. I worry about you. You are always studying and you never do anything you like."

"Well, maybe I like studying!" Clarissa said, though she did not know if she really liked it or if she had just grown used to studying every day.

"Maybe you do. But I'd think you'd also like being with your friends, which is why I worry. You are so alone, Clarissa. You are well regarded, yes, and often surrounded by people, but I never really see you with any friends other than me. Am I wrong?" Clarissa said nothing. "Well, think about it, please. I will be in front of the theater waiting for you until, say, two in the afternoon? I know you might want to study in the library and have work to do, so you don't have to come right away. What do you say?"

Clarissa thought for a few seconds. She could have fun with Flora, something she hadn't done in a while, or she could study, which she did everyday. Could she afford to lose a day of studying? After all, not only did she plan to become a doctor, she planned on studying at the most prestigious university in the country, maybe even in the continent. But at the same time, the images of the theater she dreamt of were still in her head, tempting her…

"Alright, Flora," Clarissa said, and Flora grinned a beautiful smile.

"Thank you, my dear! I'll wait for you, then," Flora said before turning her back and running away, bumping into two or three people blocking her path.

* * *

The theater was lots of things; big, old, beautiful, full of history. Above all, though, it was extremely dusty. As soon as she stepped inside, Clarissa started sneezing loudly and constantly. By her side was Flora, who did not seem to mind at all.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Flora said, and she pointed to the chandeliers in the reception room. There were some old couches in the corners with empty bookshelves by their side. Perhaps this was, once, where people waited for the spectacle to begin.

The great wooden doors on the other side of the room were already opened, and they led to the auditorium. Like the rest of the theater, it was in a terrible state, its seating decrepit and falling down.

"We'll need to do some serious renovation here," Flora said. Clarissa sneezed in agreement. "Well, what do you think?"

"Well," Clarissa sneezed. Then she sneezed again, and again, and it took her half a minute to control her sneezing, "it's very pretty. I'm sure it'd be even prettier if everything wasn't covered in dust."

"True. Still, at least we can keep the theater structure," Flora said as she pointed at the space just in front of the stage. "Look, that's where the orchestra plays. And there," she pointed at the platforms above, "there are the galleries. And even higher are the boxes where important people watch the performances, such as nobility. Even kings sat there once. Well, we don't have nobles anymore so I guess they're just fancy places to sit now."

"Th-They're pretty high," Clarissa said. If someone fell from there, they'd break most of the bones in their body. At the very least.

"They are, and right now they're pretty hard to reach, and might not be able to hold our weight depending on their state, so let's not go there yet," Flora said, and Clarissa nodded. "Well, why don't you look around?"

"May I?"

"Of course. There's the backstage, and some other rooms we haven't seen. I hear there's a smaller stage for really private showings, but me and Orianna couldn't find it yesterday."

Clarissa and Flora parted ways, and Clarissa wandered, strolling up and down the aisles of chairs. They all looked the same; old, dusty, and not very inviting to sit on. The closer she got to the stage, the worse the smell got. Not just dust now, but something different, repulsive.

The stage even larger than the one she dreamt of. Was it so spacious so that it could hold a large cast, or for huge backgrounds and lots of props? Perhaps the other smaller stage wasn't even for privacy, but simply because one that was this large was not fitting for a smaller, less elaborate play. It would be impossible to stage a play here, though, as the wooden floor creaked and felt very frail as Clarissa stepped on it. As she reached the center of the stage, sudden movement caught her eye, and she held back a scream; a mouse raced by. Clarissa's eyes followed it, and they found even more mice gathering in the corner to devour a dead rat.

A door on the corner of the stage took her to a long hallway, cobwebs hanging from the high ceilings. In the distance, the walls were broken down and led to the outside. Perhaps that was where the mice came from. All the doors looked alike, except for one. It was slightly larger and by its side was a tiny sign, too dirty to be read. Clarissa wiped off the dust with her sleeve, sneezing and coughing, and she read the words: green room.

Clarissa opened the door and what she saw was possibly the last thing she expected: a dressing room, still pristine, with no dust in sight, looking as if was frozen in time centuries ago. But that was not the most surprising thing there. No, what was far more surprising was the girl that stood there, looking at the mirror in front of her, wearing a long white dress, calmly reading a piece of paper laid on a table with makeup scattered all around.

"Hello," the girl said, turning to Clarissa.

Clarissa stepped out of the room, closed the door, then opened it again to make sure that it was actually real and not just a delirium brought by some kind of damage caused by all that sneezing.

"Hello?" The girl said again, confused now. "Come in," she said, and Clarissa was too distraught to think of questioning, so she obeyed.

There was no dust there to make her sneeze, none of that insufferable smell of oldness. Instead there was just the smell of a light perfume.

"I'm so glad you're here," the girl said. "Nobody has come to this dressing room in centuries."

"I-I figured…"

"What's your name?"

"I'm Clarissa. Clarissa Lanivia. But just call me Clarissa."

"Good, that's what I was planning on doing," the girl said. She looked at her paper again. "Call me the Playwright. Or just Play, but that's a really silly thing to call someone."

"P-Playwright? That's an unusual name."

"That's because it isn't my name," she said without looking at Clarissa, "just my title. I write plays, as you can imagine, so I'm called Playwright."

"What kind of play?" Clarissa didn't know why she was asking that, but she felt as if she had to ask something. She inspected the furniture, but there was nothing out of the ordinary. It was just a normal dressing room.

"Life," the Playwright said, turning her head from the paper. She gave Clarissa a wide eyed, serious look, the kind that says 'you're an idiot'. "You know, the thing you are living right now."

"I-"

"I feel as if I should know you," she said, and she picked another piece of paper on the drawer. "Characters… Oh, god, there are so many here… There we are… Lanivia, Clarissa, or Cure Artiste."

"W-What?"

"You're a Precure?" The Playwright was suddenly very interested. She picked up her long dress and stepped forward, coming so close that she was almost breathing on Clarissa's face. "Why didn't you tell me about it? Oh, I can't believe I'd have forgotten something like that…"

"I-I'm not a Prepure… Whatever that is…" Clarissa said. That sounded like a very stupid thing to be. She took some steps back to stay away from the hallucination. Or maybe it was a ghost. Whatever it was, Clarissa did not want it so close to her face.

"Well, my script says you are. Unless… Oh, I see! You aren't a Precure yet! I'm terribly sorry, Clarissa! I've had to deal with so many Precures in my life, it's hard to remember everything!"

"I still don't understand…"

"Well, if I actually meant for you to understand things, I'd have explained it all by now. I don't, though, so until I feel like enlightening you, just take this and do as I say," she handed Clarissa a small necklace, a small laughing mask. Clarissa immediately recognized it as the symbol of drama used by the greeks. "It's the item you need to transform."

"Transform? What?" This is it, Clarissa decided. She would stop listening to that hallucination (or ghost) right now, and walk away as fast as she could.

But she didn't. She just took the mask necklace from the Playwright's hands. Was it safe to take things from hallucinations? If it was even real, that is. She was not sure of that yet.

"You came at a very convenient time, too," the Playwright said. "I feel that soon we will need the Precure again."

"What for?"

"Oh, no big deal, just for the continued stability of reality," she chuckled, then frowned as soon as she noticed that Clarissa wasn't laughing. "Oh, fine, you don't have a sense of humor… Actually you don't seem to be understanding anything at all… Well, that's alright. Nobody's born knowing everything. I guess I'll have to help you."

Clarissa blinked in confusion. When she opened her eyes, the Playwright was gone. Maybe that would finally be the end of that. Or not; she looked down, and saw a small white critter with bunny-like ears, bunny-like eyes, a bunny-like size and a bunny-like body, but it was most definitely not a bunny. Most bunnies don't have earrings and pink silhouettes of drama masks on their foreheads.

Clarissa took a deep breath. This wasn't a normal hallucination, she was sure of it now. It was a super hallucination that nobody would believe, that would make everyone look at her funny if she dared tell them what she had seen. Not the good kind of funny, even, but the "you are out of your mind, stay away from me" kind of funny.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" The thing that was almost a bunny asked. It reached its foot up and scratched at its ear. It was kind of cute, which only made it even more freaky.

"Who are you?! No, what are you? O-Or rather, well, why are you?"

"That's not funny, Clarissa, pretending not to know someone you were talking to ten seconds ago."

"P-Play?" Clarissa caught herself saying that stupid nickname. It seemed more fitting for a not-bunny than "Playwright", at least.

"Yes, that's me," she said. She flapped her ears as wings and lifted herself off the ground, gliding up Clarissa's shoulder, where she remained perched. It tingled when Play's fur touched Clarissa's skin. She was really light and soft, and actually felt rather nice. Or, at least as nice as having a weird creature on your shoulder talking like a human could possibly feel. "Let's get going, there's nothing to do here."

Clarissa nodded awkwardly and walked away, taking long, stiff steps. None of this would be happening if she had just chosen to study. Her mind raced over a possible explanation for this nonsense: did she drink anything funny earlier? The council's coffee tasted a bit watery, but that was nothing out of the ordinary. Maybe the dust that entered her nostrils ended up covering her brain. No, that was nonsense. It was clear what was going on: nothing. It was all so illogical that it couldn't possibly be happening, so Clarissa decided to just play along until logic chose to come back.

"What exactly are you, Play?"

"I'm a fairy!"

Well, that explains a lot. And at the same time, nothing at all.

"If you're going to follow me, Play, please, don't say anything. Just pretend you're a doll. Or something."

"I know that! Do you think this is the first time I'm doing this? Clarissa, I've pretended to be a doll hundreds of times in the past. My, I might be more doll-like than some actual dolls!"

"Good. So make like a doll and be quiet now."

* * *

As Clarissa closed the auditorium doors, she heard a familiar voice that was almost always followed by someone grabbing her hand and yapping for ten minutes.

"Cissy! You won't believe what I found!" Flora called out, holding up a pile of dust that was vaguely shaped like a fish. Her face froze and she dropped the dust when she saw the not-bunny on Clarissa's shoulder. "W-What are you doing with that?"

Please don't move or say anything creepy, please don't move or say anything creepy.

"Oh, it's just a doll… A very pretty doll… That for some reason isn't covered in dust… It was at the old dressing room… Yeah…"

"O-Okay," Flora said. "So, uhm, I've got to go back home. I hope you've liked it here. Once it's a bit better looking, we can have some actual fun, alright?"

"Sure, Flora. Be seeing you."

They kissed each other's cheeks, and each went on their way. Once Clarissa had turned a corner and Flora was out of sight, she grabbed Play and glared into its huge not-bunny eyes.

"What the heck is going on? Flora saw you, so you're not just in my head."

"Of course I'm not in your head. What did you think I was, an hallucination?" Play asked. Clarissa looked around to check if there was anybody to see her speaking to the doll she held close to her face.

"That doesn't matter. What's with that talk of Prepures and transforming?"

"Well, it's very simple," Play said, and Clarissa knew that it wasn't going to be anything simple at all. "Precures are legendary magical warriors that protect the Great Script. The Script is the most important thing in this world; it has everything written on it. Everything that ever happened, all that is happening and all that will happen. Everything that has ever existed or ever will exist. And I, along with the Precures, protect it."

"Protect it from what?" Clarissa was sure that she would regret asking, but she did so anyway.

A bit ahead of them, a boy was lazily crossing the road. There were no cars in sight, and nobody else on the street or sidewalk. The boy made his way across the road without looking both ways, and even stopped for a second to scratch his leg. When he finally set foot upon the sidewalk, and bent down to tie his shoes, the large tree by his side creaked and shook a little, much like a tree usually doesn't. Then it promptly collapsed, roots and all, right on top of the boy. He didn't scream. Or maybe he did, but the sound of the tree hitting the pavement was louder.

"From that," Play said calmly.

"What was that? W-What… What…" Clarissa didn't know what to say, and even if she knew, it would not matter. The words couldn't come out easily, stuck in her throat, choking her as she trembled and fell to the ground, dropping Play. "D-Did… What… Did it… What?!"

"I guess that's the proper reaction to seeing it for the first time…" Play grabbed Clarissa's head and made her look straight into her eyes. She was floating in the air, but right now that was not even the weirdest thing. "Now listen to me carefully. The Script defines what will happen in the world, but it is not a flawless thing, and it can be changed. Some people try to change it, sometimes for terrible things… Like that. In the original Script, that tree was not supposed to fall," Play floated away from Clarissa. She clapped her paws and some pages appeared in thin air, and floated there. They were covered from beginning to end in a messy handwriting. She pointed at a line. "See? That says the boy just crosses the street with no incidents. But someone is trying to rewrite it," Clarissa saw those lines erase themselves, replaced by other words. "Those are Divergences, and they try to destroy the Script."

"Th-this isn't happening! I refuse to believe it! I'm just going to close my eyes and it'll all be over," Clarissa said. She closed her eyes and started to whine as a horrifyingly loud and high-pitched screech sounded from the fallen tree. "W-What do I do?"

"Well, you fight that," Play pointed at the fallen tree. Its roots were moving by themselves, like dozens of little arms and legs, and a great eye had opened in the middle of the trunk. "If you can defeat the Divergence soon after it is spawned, then whatever was changed will go back to normal. In other words, that Divergence is what made the tree fall on that poor kid, despite the Script saying it wasn't meant to happen. We can't allow the Script to be changed. Luckily, we still have time, as long as you destroy the Divergence now."

"But how do I fight it? I can't even lift a set of textbooks without my arms getting all sore!"

"You're not supposed to fight him the way you are!" Play said as if that was the most natural conclusion possible. "If you use that mask, you can transform into a Precure, and then you can fight! Just hold the pendant up to your face!"

"B-But it's so tiny…"

"Just do it, unless you want that boy's grave to read, 'Here lies Timmy, a tree fell on him'!"

Clarissa kept telling herself this was stupid, the stupidest thing she had ever done, and that she should not listen to some stupid bunny that wasn't actually a bunny. She put the tiny mask on her face, although it was just a little biger than the tip of her nose. Then it grew warmer and warmer, and in just a second it was as large as Clarissa's face. She closed her eyes and hoped it would be over soon.

She felt her hair growing longer, her earrings made a loud popping sound as they got heavier, bigger, and her own clothes seemed to be gone, replaced by flowing fabric, full of frills. She took off the mask, looked down at herself, at her red outfit, and she saw the Divergence make its way towards her, its roots moving it forward with great speed.

"Go, Cure Artiste!" Play yelled.

Oh, dear, Clarissa thought. She definitely should have just gone home to study.


End file.
